Assassin's Creed: A Brotherhood Divided
by AetherScribe
Summary: Follow the tale of Arther Gunn from his humble beginnings as a Scottish immigrant to the United States as he earns his hidden blades in a time when even the brotherhood cannot avoid infighting and secession, the American Civil War.
1. Prologue

Assassin's Creed: A Brotherhood Divided

**Prologue**

Scotland, 1358

The night was close around the two men, hooded against the chill in the air. The small antechamber provided little protection from the usual conditions of the highlands, but they had little intention of staying there long. The chest which they were packing was nearly full, and they would soon be on their way. "Hamish, how can you be so sure you want to do this? You are a legend in the order; you were Wallace's right hand and our backbone after his execution. Without you we may not have survived through the wars, let alone maintained our relationship with the rest of the order when it came to blows with our English brothers. If you leave now, the brotherhood in Scotland could very well suffer in the same way that the core of the order did in those ancient stories, from when Altaír was banished. How can you rest your head at night knowing that we will be left in such chaos?"

"I understand your concern, Robert, but my time is done here." The agitation in his companion's voice was troublesome, but not unwarranted. Hamish continued the packing, and explained his motivation. "I am a war hero, not a peace keeper; we both saw that during the years between the wars. I am not content leading the order from a seat in the dusty lower chambers of loyal clan chieftains, if I can no longer keep up with our young men, then it is time that I retire and leave the order in the hands of someone more suited to that sort of leadership."

"More suited to leadership? Hamish, without your stern hand we will be left with anarchy. Who could possibly lead us through that? What kinds of ideas have you come up with that have driven you to this level of madness?"

The silver in Hamish's hair gleamed as he rose from the chest and removed his hood. He turned to his companion, handing him a key. "Take this key, Robert. I will leave instructions with my family, my descendants, about this old chest of mine. I will tell them that when one of them understands the secret of the chest, that they will find the key with the head of the Scottish order."

Hamish lifted the chest, pushed easily past his friend and strode out into the night. Robert closed his had around the key, the new symbol of the head of the Scottish order, as his friend's silhouette melted into the highland fog.

Scotland, 1855

Arther,

This old chest of mine has been passed through our family since the time our forefathers stood next to William Wallace, fighting for the freedom of Scotland. Since it first began to be passed through the generations, it has remained unopened. It comes to you now, with the instruction that it can be opened with the key that is held by a master in Scotland. It is also accompanied by a riddle, 'When nothing is true, a Gunn will discover his heritage and find that everything is permitted.' Perhaps you will have a better chance at discovering the secrets of our ancestors.

Aut Pax Aut Bellum,

Granda'

Scotland, 1861

The sun shone off the water, casting a myriad of lights off the red sails. The ship bobbed in the water as it floated at port in Wick. A small family of puffins trotted back and forth along the small, rocky beach as squabbled over some small fish. It seemed like the start of a fairy tale as Arther prepared to board The Dealrach Fíreun; the wind was perfect, the seas were calm, and this ship was to set sail for a distant coast.

"I still don't get it. What does Dealrach Fíreun even mean?" Even without seeing her, it was not difficult to determine that Kathrein MacBride had come to see him off, despite his disapproval.

"I've told you, Kathrein, it's old Gaelic for 'shining eagle'. It probably means the eagles that you see around the area, or perhaps the one perched over the captain's cabin there." Arther turned to face his uninvited dispatch party. "What are you doing here, Kat? I told you not to come."

"Arther, how can you even begin to consider this an idea worth pursuing? What can you possibly do in America that you couldn't do here?"

"I have told you enough times already. With my family's fields being taken, there is hardly any room for me to stake claim on any of them, I would not take that chance from my brothers. Besides, this gives me the opportunity to leave and make my own way."

"I still don't like it. You'll leave and forget everything here. You won't even be a Scot anymore and it will be a shame because you were the finest piper this side of the Beauly!" She turned to face the ship, refusing to look at Arther again.

"Kat, you know that won't happen. You've been my closest friend since my granda' died, you know that I'll write to you. And look, my pipes are packed away right here. I'll be the envy of every shepherd around when I get my own fields!" Even showing her the glimmering golden inlays of his grandfather's pipes would not convince her to look away from the ship's broadside canons. "I suppose you'll have to believe me once my letters start showing up."

Arther gripped her shoulder as he turned to climb the gangplank. Looking back as he reached the deck, he saw little more than Kathrein's profile. He turned and headed below to his quarters as the captain shouted for the crew to raise the anchor and release the sails.

Kathrein's gaze slowly shifted, following the ship as it slid out of port. "You'll leave and forget _me_, here."


	2. Chapter 1: The Eagle

Chapter 1

The Eagle

The spray of the sea was new, but it comforted Arther. Every dot of foam on his face was a promise of a new freedom. He looked over the ocean in a way that he never could have from the crags and cliffs of Scotland, it was a wondrous new experience for him. The same could not be said of the ship's captain as he watched carefully across the foam as he adjusted the wheel against the battering waves.

"You know, lad, if you're going to stand around on deck like tha' you could at least make yerself useful." Arther turned from his sea-gazing to meet the eyes of a shaggy, blonde crewman. From the calm sound of his voice, he had expected another of the minimal passengers rather than the scruffy man before him. "Well, you going to help me get this beast of a banner up the main mast or not?"

He had been so engrossed in staring at the water that he had hardly noticed the large wad of red cloth that was being thrust into his arms. The crewman moved fluidly to the rigging and began to climb, as though the waves knocking the ship about were little more than a gentle breeze on a meadow. Arther began to wonder how often it was that passengers were asked to climb the rigging, but followed along with the hope that he might earn a favor or two from the crew if he should have need of them. As they reached the peak of the mast and settled onto the crossbars of the mast, the captain's eagle met them and seemed to keep a watchful eye as this newcomer rose into his domain.

"This ship has been sailing since the days when Scotland herself had a navy, lad. Captain O'Hara likes to raise the ol' Scottish Naval flag once we get far enough out of port, keeps him entertained and keeps pirates confused enough to leave us alone." The scruffy crewman pulled the ropes to raise the new banner and returned to his seat on the crossbeam. The new flag was quite different from the British Union Jack, only a field of red with the Scottish Saltire shining out from the upper corner. The two sat for a few moments, listening to the waves below and the whipping of the flag above.

"Seems he's taken a shine to you, the captain has. Thinks you'd make a good addition to the crew, course I think you're just star struck like most are on their first time out to sea. You did make it up the rigging without falling though, so maybe you could hold your own for a while. What do you think? Think you could handle the life of a salty sea dog… eh… what did you say your name was?"

"I don't remember you asking. I'm Arther, and I think I would have to disappoint the captain and turn down is offer. My feet are better suited to the hills on dry land, not the waves of the sea." Arther watched as the eagle that had watched him so closely dropped out of their lofty position and back down to its master.

"Well, looks like Toby is a bit more disappointed than the captain will be. I wouldn't worry about the ol' feathered one though; he just knows that the captain has been wanting to find a protégé to replace him. That Tobias is a clever bird, only a few years old too. He'll be the hardest judge of who takes the wheel after the captain steps down." They watched as Tobias returned to his post at the captain's side and resumed monitoring the crew's duties. "You know, this trip can get rather long in these ships that aren't steam powered. If you find yourself needing something to do, just ask for Thomas and I'll put you to work, whether you plan on staying with us or not." With that, they returned to the deck. Thomas returned to his duties and Arther went below deck to make good on his promise to write to Kathrein.

The following weeks passed easily as Arther befriended the crew and joined them in their chores and past-times. Some days it was fishing from the long boats, others it was betting on how the dice would fall. Near the end of the journey, the crew had grown tired of their usual routine and had taken up a more exciting and dangerous game. "Come on, Arther, I promised you that these blades were dull, didn't I? I am nothing if not a man of my word; just ask any of these fine men!"

"I'm sure none of them would be reminded of last week when you cheated at dice, would they, Thomas? Besides that, the last sword I swung was a wooden one as I ran about the yard as a boy. You would run me through in just a few quick swipes!"

Thomas ignored Arther's dismissal of the challenge, tossing him a sword. As Arther gripped the hilt Thomas charged, swinging his blade and being quickly deflected as Arther raised his blade in defense. "Either you've held a blade before or you're simply a natural, my friend! Let's just see how far that beginner's luck will take you!"

They traded blows one by one. Slowly at first, picking up speed as Arther began to improve and grow accustomed to the movements. The crew shouted tips when Thomas would begin to gain the upper hand and Arther would push him back. Finally, the two combatants succumbed to the exhaustion of their duel and called a truce.

"Are you sure you've never wielded a blade of your own, Arther?" Thomas took the borrowed blade and walked with Arther below deck.

"I swear to you, this was the first time I've ever swung a real sword. By all rights you should have had me on the ground within the first few minutes." They continued to banter as they rested from their skirmish, but their rest was interrupted as a call came down from the crow's nest.

"Captain! Two steam ships approaching! They are flying the red cross and look loaded to the brim!"

With this news, the activity on the deck doubled as every man scrambled to their stations, hoping to evade the guns of the other ships if escape became necessary. The other two ships drew along either side of the Fireun, flying white flags to signal a parley. A man in a large naval hat signaled to have a plank set between the ships and called out to the captain.

"Captain O'Hara! I must admit that I am surprised to see you are still in command of your own ship. These days I would expect you to be nursing a bottle at some corner table of your favorite pub." Arther and Thomas could hear the other commander jeering at the captain as they climbed to the deck, meeting the captain as he stepped down to the lower deck.

For the first time since he had boarded, Arther heard the captain speak, "Thomas, whatever happens, do not retaliate. Keep the men and the ship safe."

"Captain, you know I can't-"

"That is an order, Mr. Yates. And also, don't let this one out of your sight." He motioned to Arther as he turned to face the other commander across the plank. "To what do we owe the displeasure of your visit, Mr. Atchinson?"

"That's Commodore Atchinson to you, my old friend. I have spent my time since our last meeting rising through the ranks in the name of the crown. It is on orders that I have found you today." He paused for only a moment as he drew a pistol from his belt and fired it into the captain's chest. The captain fell to his knees, Tobias flying from his shoulder into the heights of the rigging. "For crimes of treason and conspiracy against the British crown, Mr. O'Hara, you are under arrest." Atchinson looked in disdain as the captain lay on the deck struggling for his next breath. The crew all stood on guard, prepared to fight if the commodore saw fit to kill anyone else. "It is a shame that you resisted, O'Hara, I was told to bring you in alive if possible. Now then, with your captain gone, any crew members or passengers who wish to go with my men and I are welcome to join us as we travel back to New York."

Thomas went to the captain's side as he spoke his last, a whisper that the rest of the gathered crew could hear. The passengers gathered their things and crossed to the other ship, along with a handful of the crewmen. Without another word, the commodore signaled for his ships to disembark and left the Fireun with the body of their captain.

As the crew gathered around Thomas, who still sat by the captain's body, Tobias swooped back down from his perch to land on the wheel. He only stared at the center of the gathered crew, watching to see if his master might still live. After a few moments he stretched out his wings and pierced the ears of the remaining crew with his mourning screech. They all felt the eagle's pain. The following silence was nearly as deafening as the screech.

Arther stood in shock; there had been no resistance, let alone enough to warrant the captain being shot so cruelly. The drowning feeling he had in his mind was interrupted by Tobias' talons in his shoulder. The eagle balanced itself by his head and watched as Thomas closed the eyes of its former master.


End file.
